Can I Hold Your Hand?
by Bookman Old Style
Summary: [A universe swap with the Little Girl (regular Undertale) New universe is Reapertale created by renrink] Sans has a terrible job that he shares with his brother. Nothing seems happy for him except for Life being there to give him knowledge on how others react to his deed. He's glad he listened; because now he has to reap an orphan who can see him and doesn't think he's all that bad
1. Prologue: Seeing is Believing

**So this might piss off a few people... But for right now, You and I, Existing as We, is on hiatus. I didn't realize how much energy and creativity I shoved into The Little Girl, and I am just completely wiped out. But, I have recently become a dump of Reapertale -literally, the best Undertale AU in my opinion. Created by renrink on tumblr-, and have decided (mostly because this stupid idea wouldn't stop stabbing me in the feels) to** ** _rewrite The Little Girl -or more of do a Reapertale version of it. I had to dig through renrink's stuff pretty hard, and I think I got all the information I need to keep this story in check with their AU. So, it will still have a young human girl, and it will still have the sweet-and-lovable Sans, but it'll probably be more calm throughout. I want to also thank every single human being who has favorited, followed and reviewed my Undertale stories! At the end of this book, there will be a chapter completely dedicated to those people. Also, this takes place in modern day. Just to let you know! :) Anyway, I'm blathering on, so, LETS GET ON WITH IT -Bookman Old Style "Sty"_**

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Prologue

The cloaked figure strolled above the bustling humans. He walked from rooftop to rooftop, the tall structures towering over the mortals. For some reason, out of all the places he'd been -Life's hidden garden, the Underworld, Ebott- this place was the most interesting, and amusing to him. His long scythe gleamed in the spring sun and he kept his hood flipped over his skull.

Death was tracking his next victim.

An elderly man, designated to die by food-poisoning at 8:48 a.m on 37th street, Manhattan, New York. The grim reaper looked at his Aqua-colored sand hourglass. A small strip at the bottom showed exactly what time it was, just in case he wasn't willing to read the sand properly.

8:46 a.m

Death hopped down to the street, landing on a lamppost. He was still above the humans and he clenched his jaw when he realized that if he even grazed one of these blood bags, it would be a lot harder to explain than just one wrinkly sack taking a fall. He sighed, seeing the former soldier stagger along, his ivory cane clicking on the concrete. Some would think, why was the God of Death currently awaiting this man's fate, if this Soul was not impure and dark?

Well, he was. He might not seem that way, but Ethaniel Mand was a murderer, an evil that harbored his heart could not be removed. In the war, he'd killed fifty of his own men, abused the nurses in a matter that is unforgivable in any way. The Peaceful Death was not here to greet him today. The reaper tutted as he tried to think of a way to reap the human's Soul without touching the sea of others. He tapped his scythe on the lamppost and jumped to another one, right above the target. The man froze and suddenly he thudded to the sidewalk, rasping wheezes and green vomit trailing from him. After a few seconds, the chunky substance became thin and bloody. Death came down, now having a clear area to do his work. Humans shouted in alarm as the man writhed weakly. They all surged backwards as the grim reaper lifted his scythe, a small smirk on his skull.

No one could see him but Ethaniel. The veteran's eyes grew wide and he tried to speak, but the moment Death's blade slid through his body, he lay limp on the ground, brown eyes faded and mouth agape. There was no wound to show the deed, but a pale grey wisp twirled out of the body, taking shape of the old man. The reaper flicked his wrist, and the spirit went into the concrete and down to the Underworld.

There were sorrowful chitters from the mortals and he turned to them, not really caring if one decided to foolishly go to Ethaniel. The monster was dead.

That's all that mattered.

He slightly tensed his body, preparing to teleport when something in the crowd caught his eye sockets.

A small human, shorter than he was, was looking straight at him. He paused, furrowing his brow and checked behind him. Ethaniel's body was already being taken by the ever-so-late paramedics, and he couldn't see anything that would cause the child to be staring so intently at him. He glanced back at the mortal, tilting his head to the right.

The human mirrored him, her big eyes shining in the light.

Death flinched and instantly found himself in the Underworld, feeling cold and jittery. Thin bursts of flame greeted him from the holes in the stone. The hall of spirits was busy greeting Ethaniel and he could see his brother in the entrance to the hall, laughing and talking with the few who had warmed up to the Peaceful Reaper. He scowled, walking past him and going to his "room." When he placed his scythe in its holder, he took out the hourglass, watching the sand sprinkle down silently. Once it was twelve p.m., he'd flip it over and have it empty out once more to the other side.

"Sans? How did it go? The man you brought seems very flustered right now. He's...actually asking for you."

Death turned his head, pushing off his hood. His brother was inspecting the human essence staining Sans' scythe with distaste.

"Ah, hey Papyrus," Sans greeted, waving a boney hand and ignoring his brother's other statement. "What's up?" Papyrus' frown deepened.

"I asked how did it go," he said softly. "The man you brought is very confused -though they always are- and he is asking for you." Sans laughed, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, I probably scared him to death."

"SANS!"

"I mean, I really should've known better. This could be a serious issue. Maybe he can see ghosts now."

"SANS, OH MY GODS!"

Sans snorted and shook his head. He liked making those bad jokes. It made his brother angry, but in a love-to-hate kind of way.

"Sorry Pap, I'll stop now."

" _Thank you_ ," the taller God sighed, exasperated. "Anyway, never mind the audience with the man. Tell me about today. I would really like to know." He sat on the cavern floor, elbows propped on his knees and his skull held by his hands. He smiled at Sans and Sans smiled back.

"Well, it was bright outside. It was beautiful, but I could feel that in a couple of hours it'd have a couple of showers of rain. Nothing big really. I was walking along Manhattan's skytowers and following Ethaniel."

"Who is Ethaniel?" Papyrus interrupted. "Is he our new friend?"

Sans nodded. "Yeah. And I know you don't like hearing my favorite part, so I'll skip that. It was a clean reaping bro. Nothing went wrong." He paused, turning his head slightly away from the other reaper. "Though... There was this one thing that happened. It was really weird..."

"Weird? What do you mean?" Papyrus asked, his sockets widening. Sans rubbed his face, suddenly tired.

"A kid was in the crowd," he muttered. "I think... I think she could see me."


	2. Chapter 1: Keep it Together, Sans

**_*blows raspberry* cute story is going to be slow. But, I am DETERMINED to keep it going. Got some reviews,_** ** _and then we'll push on through:_**

 ** _dream1990: I'm glad you like it. I like it too! But don't worry, I haven't forgotten about YaI,EaW. :3 just inspiration comes at different times._**

 ** _Guest: Trust me, I love it too! XD_**

 ** _Pikachu2chu: :3 thank you_**

 ** _Arashi - IV of VI: It will be :3_**

 ** _All right-y roo~! Ready for this! -Sty_**

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Chapter 1

 _Darkness..._

 _It was everything and now it was in all things. He was created to bring and spread darkness. He and his brother. They were the gods of death, meant to reap and made to bring the Souls to the Underworld where they will be judged for their sins and punished for their crimes. They were the Grim Reapers. They were meant only to kill, and to control the lives of mortals._

 _He went down to the first creation, brandishing his blade and advancing on her. This was all he knew what to do. He stared into the child's eyes and raised his scythe._

 _But hesitated the moment he cut her down. Powers ran askew, darkness dribbled into the human. She was not ready to die. She did not want to die. The Reaper's hellish powers coursed into the mortal and the first anomaly was taking place._

 _The agent of darkness and chaos and violence was created. A corrupted child who'd fallen from faith. She had dragged the God of Hope along with her. Death, stunned by this, could only watch as his first Reaping was a failure. The Grim Reaper had only caught a glimpse of the two anomalies before they both dispersed from the realm._

 _He can only hunt for them as if they're animals, hoping to find them and destroy both of these creatures. Chaos and despair will not sit well with these humans._

 _He no longer hesitates and no longer allows himself to show them mercy during his Reapings, whereas his brother controls and consoles the unwilling spirits into their inevitable fate. He sends them where they belong which is the Underworld as such of all of Life's creatures. The Cruel Reaper inexplicably judges them._

 _Life, furious with the Father of the Skies, the Wise God, and the God of Magic, abandoned the Heavens, going to her creations and becoming isolated on their world. Her forest fires created a garden with a barrier no one else could see. Only immortals could witness this beautiful garden in the redwood forest. Death would soon find her, and they would grow something together, Life and Death._

 _Compassion, understanding, and trust._

 _The two Gods, complete opposites of each other, meant to cancel each other became friends._

 _Life teaches Death of all things in her world, teaching him how to live and feel towards other beings._

 _It has been a long journey, thousands of years of hunting and still no anomalies. The humans had been birthed, they had died and the cycle would forever continue. He had grown somewhat kinder to the mortals, not giving them much, but allowing most to die of natural causes._

 _He was changing as the world was. The beings were becoming creative. Goddesses of War and Knowledge went to the realm between the earth and the Stars, and the Father of the Skies was still sorrowful of his unfortunate yet necessary decision. The Gods of Wisdom and Magic however did not grow as distraught over their creations. Wisdom knew that it was the right choice. Magic did not care for the feelings towards Death. Death was a priority in this world, and no one was going to be able to stop it._

 _And so the Reaper hunts. And Death Reaps. He does as he is told, and he follows his birth purpose to take lives that are meant to be taken._

"Sans?"

He lifted his head, blinking. He felt as if he'd just woken up from a dream. Everything in the room was fuzzy, but he could make out the shape of his brother, who was now standing up and looking at Sans worringly. He rubbed his cheekbone, frowning.

"U-uh yeah. Yeah, Pap?" he responded, still dazed a little.

"What do you mean a human could see you?" he asked, wringing his hands. "Was it one of the first humans?" Sans tilted his skull.

"No, I took care of them, remember? I'm pretty sure if you look hard enough you'll find 'em in the spirit hall." Papyrus chuckled, smiling slightly. But Sans could see his brother's concern.

"Should I go to Asgore to inform of this?" Papyrus inquired, tightening his robes. Sans tensed.

"Nah, bro. I'll just track them down and make sure. I mean, I don't really know if they could see me," he said, waving a hand and getting up. He grabbed his hourglass and stepped over to his scythe. He winked at Papyrus.

"Oh! Brother! That reminds me..." Papyrus reached into his robes and pulled out seven envelopes, stamped with the Gods' insignia. He happily handed them to Sans and the smaller God clenched his jaw.

More Reaping schedules. He sighed and gave his brother a crooked smile.

"Thanks Pap. I'll be back soon, okay?" he patted his Papyrus' shoulder and teleported back to the human realm, this time on an uncrowded sidewalk. He looked around, allowing himself to grin as small birds flitted up near the sky, belting out their songs.

Sans walked down the concrete, avoiding the unbeknownst humans that traveled in the opposite direction. He tried his best to step over the weeds that grew between the slabs of stone -mainly because it would be odd to the mortals to see a plant suddenly wilt and die without anything near it.

He closed his sockets, stepping to the side. If he was going to find that human, he might as well do it the easy way. He let the memory of them slide into his skull and when he opened his sockets again, everything was dark. Except for a bright blue thread in which he followed. It would lead him to the human without him coming in contact with others. He stepped alongside the trail, often brushing his fingertips against it. It would shiver, but it'd never break or tangle.

He trekked down a couple of more blocks until he finally saw the end of the thread. The world around him became light again and he carefully stood near the child, who was busy drawing something in the alleyway's dirt ground. He peered at their clothes and frowned. They were ratty and dusty, their once knee-length skirt torn in some places. Their hair was like a sunset, deep auburn streaks mixed with orange and gold. They wore a thin shirt, it used to be the color blue but it faded out to a dismal grey. He then looked at their picture.

It was his face.

He shuddered and frowned, taking a step back. He heard his foot shift some of the garbage strewn across the ground. The human lifted their head and turned to him, their eyes wide.

They -no, _she_ , smiled at him and stood up, wiping her hands on her skirt. He gave her a shaken smile.

"Uh... Hi," he muttered, raising a hand.

She didn't respond.

"Um..." He didn't know what to say. He'd never spoken to a mortal before, much less a child. He could feel sweat slithering down his spine. "Can... Can you see me?" She nodded, holding her hands behind her back and tilting her head.

"Who are you?" she asked softly. He scoffed.

"Grim Reaper, Death, Sans, whatever floats your boat, kid," he responded, a little too harshly. But the young girl didn't seem to be phased. "What's your name?"

"Aria," she said. "I don't have a last name. What's a Grim Reaper?"

"I kill people," he said in return. "Anything and everything I touch, dies. So I suggest you don't get too close." She took a step forward, causing him to stiffen and scramble back slightly. "H-hey! Kid I said _don't_ get too close! What are ya, deaf?" She giggled and Sans furrowed his brow. He was pretty sure she valued her life a little more...

"Is that why you killed the old guy earlier?" Aria asked, smiling. He nodded. "Do you only kill bad guys or everyone?"

"Everyone who needs to be dead." Her eyes lit up, her small hands balling into fists.

"Could you kill someone for me?"

Sans reeled back, his sockets wide.

"W-what?!" he sputtered, gripping his scythe hard. "Why the hell would you ask me that?"

"Because! She took my parents away from me!" Aria exclaimed, her face hardening. "I wanna get some pay back!"

 _What the literal fuck_ , he thought in surprise, staring down at the little human. Was she an impure Soul? Was this Papyrus' job or his? He sighed and pulled his hood over his head, glaring down at the ground.

This was a stupid idea. He should probably just go and do his job. Maybe visit Toriel in between kills. He turned away from Aria, pulling out his first envelope. He heard the kid begin to protest, but he quickly shut her out, taking in the name and area of his next victim.

Theresa Foru.

Tokyo, Japan.

3:56 p.m.

Sans looked at his hourglass, inwardly groaning. It wasn't even twelve yet. He sighed again and began to walk away. He heard little footsteps follow behind him but he didn't really care. If the kid was an idiot, it wouldn't be his fault if she touched him.

"Hey!" he heard her squeak, her breathing becoming hard. He wasn't walking that fast...

Out of curiosity on why the human was having such trouble following him, he glanced back at her. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his magic give a slight pulse insight of him. She was holding onto his cloak, the shadowy fabric burning her flesh. Although it wasn't him that was touching her, his power still bled into his coverings, meaning whoever touched his clothes could fall extremely ill and then die. He snatched his cloak away from her and glared at her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doin' kid?!" he barked, standing still. Aria staggered to stay on her feet, her grayish eyes glassy. "What did I say?! I said don't touch me unless you wanna die. Do you want to die?!" The child sniffled, rubbing her eyes. Her fingers left behind black streaks on her skin. Aria shook her head, looking down at her bare feet.

He suddenly felt himself empathizing with her. She was just a little kid...maybe six or seven years old. She clearly had no family here and probably was starving. She looked so frail...

Maybe she did want to die. It would've been better than this shitty life, right? He raised his scythe, readying himself.

 _Just make this as painless as possible_ , he thought, feeling his hands shake. He furrowed his brow and swung his weapon.

It landed in front of him, it clattering between him and Aria. He couldn't kill her. The girl stopped crying, looking up at him. She was trembling and her eyes had grown red and puffy.

This was the most fucked up day of his life, he decided, grabbing the shaft near the blade of his scythe, holding out the lower part to her. She hesitantly grasped it and tilted her head to him. He mirrored her, trying to smile.

"Are... Are you going to help me?" she whispered, taking one small step towards him. Sans shrugged, flicking off his hood.

"Sure, why the hell not."


	3. Chapter 2: Downpour

**_Woopwoopwoop here we go:_**

 ** _TheSmee2000: AWW THANK YOU FOR YOUR APPRECIATION! I absolutely love people who don't mind about updates or about if a story goes on hiatus! Thank you so much!_**

 ** _Arashi IV - VI: *squee* Yeah Sans is just a naïve lil bean. He doesn't know better._**

 ** _titanicdragon: all good answers go to those who wait ;P_**

 ** _OKAY TIME FOR CHAPTER TWO -Sty_**

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Chapter 2

Sans and Aria walked down to where Sans first appeared in Manhattan, he grumbling softly to himself. The human kept asking him questions, clearly unphased by the injuries on her hands. She clasped the lower half of his scythe and let her mouth run.

"Why is your name Sans?"

"What is it like to kill someone?"

"Are you all alone?"

"Do you have any friends?"

"Can I be your friend?"

"Do you have any food?"

"Where do you live?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Do you think cows are as smart as everyone says they are?"

"Do you like me?"

"Are there other Deaths I can meet?"

"Why did your clothes hurt me?"

"Oh my gods, kid. _S_ _hut. Up,_ " he snapped after another blithering question. He rubbed his face, trying his best to dodge the countless humans. Aria however gladly bumped into them, sticking her tongue out and taunting them. Sans blinked down at her, not sure if he should be amused or concerned. Maybe helping her kill someone wasn't really the smartest idea.

"Who do you want me to kill again?" he asked, dragging her behind him. He was growing annoyed with this almost endless mass of humans. Aria squeaked every once and a while, tripping over her own barefeet. He groaned and staggered into the street, spitting curses at the stupid mortals. Aria frowned at him.

"Mally," Aria said, standing beside him. Sans scoffed, gritting his teeth. This world was by far the most irritating place. He saw from the corner of his socket Aria flinch as a cyclist zoomed past, hissing at her. He took a good look around before beginning to walk again, letting himself glance back at the orphan to make sure she still followed.

They found a winding sidewalk, a lot less crowded than the others. He sighed and both of them traveled down the cement path, soon becoming surrounded by grass and trees and other plants. Sans grew ridged. Ever since he'd found Toriel's garden, he'd always been wary around vegetation, especially flowers. Aria began to walk ahead of him, leading Sans down the path. He grit his jaw but allowed himself to be dragged along.

 _Thank the Stars that Papyrus isn't here to see this_ , he thought with a grumble.

Eventually the two came across a stone bench. Aria let go of Sans' scythe and crawled ontop of the seat, scooting herself close to the edge so Sans would have enough room to sit. He scoffed and sat down, he himself on the edge to stay away from the orphan.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a tilt of her head. "You look sad." Sans turned his head in the opposite direction, frowning.

"I'm fine," he said in a clipped tone.

"You _sound_ sad," she noted.

"Shut up."

"You're being a butt," Aria claimed, crossing her arms and turning away from him with a pout. Sans let out a cold snicker.

"Get used to it kid. I ain't ever changing for nobody. This is who I am." He looked back at her. He suddenly felt oddly upset to see her mad at him. He fingered at his skull clasp that held his hood to his robes and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Aria sniffled, kicking her feet.

Great. More crying.

 _I'm fucking terrible with kids_ , Sans thought drily, his brow furrowing. _What the hell am I even doing with this girl? Just because she can see me and just because she thinks I'm nice makes me want to be near her?! Gods, I hate this so much_. He closed his sockets and felt his magic pulse.

"Kid," he said softly. "Sorry about being an idiot. I can just get a little mean sometimes. Kinda like a _bonehead_." He heard Aria giggle quietly. He allowed himself to smile.

Just a little.

He looked at the passing humans, there not being that many. Wind drifted around him and Aria, he still not looking to her. Why would he? So she could use her unknown orphan-sorcery on his Soul again?

No thank you.

A leaf flittered over one of his hands, it barely grazing his finger bone-tips. But like anything brushing against Death, it slowly crumbled, shriveling in on itself. By the time it reached the ground, it was drifting to dust.

Sans' smile immediately turned to a scowl, his sockets narrowing. His hand that touched the leaf balled into a fist. Anger made his bones shake. He clenched his jaw as another feeling trickled through the fury. It spread through him. It split out like veins, each tendril constricting his movement. He trembled, his head lowering.

"Hey."

He flinched and whipped his head around to look at the human girl.

"You okay, Sans?" Aria asked, her eyes worried. The dimming sunlight glinted faintly in her pupils. Sans could see his reflection in them. His frown deepened and he blew out a short sigh.

"Just peachy," he grumbled. He never liked being near organic things unless Life was nearby. If she was, then Sans would've gladly laid on the grass, her fire dancing around them both and it leaving behind a brand new layer of purity. "Just cold, I guess." Aria's brow furrowed.

"That's because you don't have skin, or blood or fat, dummy," she pointed out casually. "True, I got all that -well, except for the fat- and I'm always cold. But clothes help a lot. I don't have too many clothes, I really just have these and a ratty sweater I found." Sans shrugged, glancing away.

"Okay."

Suddenly the air exploded with a deafening boom. Aria didn't blink whereas Sans almost toppled over and off the bench. His Soul pounded hard and he gripped the stony edges of his seat as his wide sockets searched the sky frantically. Nothing was up there except for dark clouds.

 _Plip_.

Sans twitched when he felt the droplet land on his forehead. He relaxed hardly any as a sudden flash of light streaked overhead. More droplets pittered down.

It was raining.

Sans sighed and leaned back against the wettening stone. Aria still stared at the sky, her eyes squinting as raindrops attacked her bare face. Her dark hair became damp and soon soaked as the rainfall grew harsher. Sans didn't care, really.

Aria laughed and jumped off the bench, her feet squishing against the forming mud in the grass. Sans didn't really want to, but he began to watch the little girl giggle and dance in the rain.

"What are you doing?" he eventually called to her as she bounded past and down the concrete sidewalk.

"Enjoying it!" she shouted back. "I love the rain!"

Sans stared at the girl with empty sockets. The rain battered his skull and he glanced at his finger bones. They glistened with the water. It didn't rot, or quiver, or fall apart like anything else he touched. He smiled wide at Aria, her voice muffled by rolling thunder.

"Me too, kid."


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